


A Phoenix Reborn

by NightHunterDeath



Series: Phoenix [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, One Piece
Genre: AU, F/M, Harry is Marco, M/M, Marco is Harry, Reincarnation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-30
Updated: 2017-02-08
Packaged: 2018-09-13 12:25:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9123490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NightHunterDeath/pseuds/NightHunterDeath
Summary: A Phoenix Never Dies Spinoff – Ace D. Portgas is a high school student who lives a normal life – if you can see past the knowledge he remembers everything from his past life as a pirate. His friends and family remember as well, making everything bearable even if a piece of their family is missing. It's by chance that he runs into the University student Hadrian Jameson Marco Potter, the reincarnation of his lover who has no memory of the past.





	1. Trying

Bright light streams through the curtains that block everything out, shining right on the inhabitant of the room. Grumbling rings through the air even as an alarm clock blares on the nightstand. A hand, a natural tan but pale from not being out in the sun, comes down on it to shut it up as silence takes over the constant ringing. Unfocused orbs, one green and the other blue, blinks open to take on a new day.

The man goes through his regular routine, the hygiene taken care of first thing in the morning and then making his way to the kitchen to fix himself a quick breakfast before his morning classes. He counts off the subjects in his head, musing about the formulas he knows so well he can recite them backwards and forwards. There isn't much thought into the process of making his breakfast, having made it since he was sixteen by himself and even before that when his mother decided he was old enough to learn how to cook. He puts the egg and bacon omelet on a paper towel as he cleans up, checking the fridge for what he needs to get at the store when he realizes it's practically empty. He makes a mental list in his head, knowing he'll remember later just as he gets out of class.

Without further ado he starts to eat, his semi-long black hair getting in the way as he puts everything his bag and swings it over his shoulder. Grabbing his keys and locking the door, he leaves an empty apartment behind him.

He gets there early, like every other day that he has attended class and pulls up near the back of the parking lot. The man doesn't waste time by fiddling with his phone or going over his textbooks one last time – he knows he understands it – and is ready for whatever his professor might throw at him as he has every time. The man makes his way towards his class, bag thrown over his shoulder and a cup of coffee he has in his hand to try to wake him up for the test they are about to have.

Before he makes it to class however, he is stopped by his friend. Neville Franklin Longbottom, his best friend since infancy who had taken him in when he needed it most. There wasn't a better friend out there in his mind, no one to have his back and get him out of his mess than the amazing best-friend-turned-brother in front of him. If it wasn't for him, he wonders what would have become of him. Probably would have dropped out of high school and worked himself to death.

"Harry!" Ah, yes, that dreadful nickname that all his friends seemed to call him by. A shortened version that horrible name his parents had given him: _Hadrian Jameson Marco Potter_. One day he'd get moving to the state's administration to get that damnable name changed, just not yet.

"Hey, Neville," his tone was casual, trying not to inject any urgency in his voice to give Neville the impression he didn't want to talk. While they had been together for years, Neville had always had self-esteem issues that were deadly in their social circle. Hadrian had gotten used to Neville's habits and ticks and in turn he became more open and confident when he was around. It was a fragile balance though, words taking double meanings in his mind when there was none. One day, he promised himself, one day he'll knock those people upside the head for allowing this problem to fester.

That was neither here nor there though, not now at least.

"Listen… I was wondering if you had the… notes for Professor Babbling's class," Babbling was the all-around language teacher, anywhere from Latin to Japanese was her playing field. Here at the University the students were required to know at least three languages fluently, as well as study the rest. Luckily one of those three languages could be your native tongue, so you were only learning two more – even if that did sound horrible. Hadrian had actually had the three other languages down, Japanese, Spanish, and French being two courses he took in high school, Japnese being one he learned as a child. However he still took the class because one day he wanted to travel, and it was much easier to do if you knew what you were saying.

"Yeah, go ahead. I won't need them for a while," he handed the notes over, his friend taking them gratefully. Everyone knew that Hadrian had the best notes in the school, but not many people were close enough, or brave enough, to ask him for them.

"T-thanks," _Neville was still uneasy around him, wasn't he?_ Hadrian thought as he gazed at his best friend. How long had it been, two years? While yes, it still stung and some days were worse than others, he didn't want his best friend agonizing over it. Nothing could have been done – they had all made their choices.

"See ya around, Nev," and then he left him there, floundering to come up with some sort of response. Neville would always be his friend, but that didn't mean it hurt any less to be around him.

* * *

When he arrives at class, he is the first one there, like usual. The teacher had stopped by though, her things clearly spread across her desk and her tea still steaming. Hadn't been gone long then, so it would probably be awhile until she got back. There were a good thirty minutes left until class started – not enough time to go anywhere but long enough to get bored staring at a wall.

Hadrian set down his bag, placing pencils and pens and whatever else he needs for this class in reach. He continues to sip on his coffee even as he flicks through his phone, catching a photo that will make him stop and stare every once and awhile. A notification comes up not long after, catching his attention from a game he was playing.

_Sweet Flower: Goodmorning! How are classes so far?_

It takes him a moment to reply, more than it should. He wonders how she convinced them to let her text him, or if she did it without their knowledge. Either one, their time wouldn't last long before they changed their minds or found out.

_Hadrian: Goodmorning. They're fine. You're not in school yet?_

_Sweet Flower: Nope, we had one of those weird half days that start around lunch. I was wondering if you got out early enough if we could grab a bite to eat?_

While the offer was tempting, the consequences outweighed the benefits. Just how far could they push this before they snapped and called the cops on him again?

_Hadrian: Do they know you're texting me? Or that you've planned this?_

_Sweet Flower: Yes, DEAR. They do know. And while they're not happy with it, they're willing to let me have a meal with you once a week if we desire. So…_

_Sweet Flower: Please get out early? I don't want them to suddenly decide to take back their word before we get to eat lunch together._

It had been a long time since they actually saw each other. And if this was the first and last chance he got to see her until she became a legal adult, he might as well chance it.

_Hadrian: Sure. Meet up at the Baratie, Takoyaki 8, or M's café? See you at 11:30?_

_Sweet Flower: Really? I guess M's café would be perfect! See you there!_

Great, now he'll have to rush through the test faster than he normally would have. That's okay though, he knew what he was getting himself into when answering that text. Now he could only hope that she was being truthful when getting permission from her parents.

* * *

Hadrian had managed to finish the test early, while also going over it again to make sure there were no mistakes. He turned it into Professor Vector and was free to leave after. With an hour left to go, he decided he would start heading towards Mermaids' Café to get them a seat. Luckily he knew a few people so they should be able to get him a place.

After shooting his friend a text, he started to make the long trek across town. He could have gotten a taxi or ridden a bus, but Hadrian had decided that today was a good day for a walk and to explore. While a lot of his friends and him went to the university here, they actually didn't grow up in the city. They grew up in the hills of Scotland where a private boarding school used to reside. Unfortunately, an earthquake in his senior year had caused a lot of the infrastructure to collapse on itself, rendering it an unsafe environment and was shut down. It was only recently that they decided they would go to school in America, and it was a mere coincident that some of his friends decided to go to the same school.

Walking down the streets weren't bad, the hustle and bustle of the streets soothing him more than he thought they would. It was nice background noise, something to ground yourself to but not getting in the way of your main focus. It was nice, getting lost in the rhythm of humans going about their daily lives. He could almost believe he was the same as the people next to him.

Almost.

A collision was bound to happen in a busy street, and it just so happened to be Hadrian was a part of it. He heard shouting right before, speeding kids running along the sidewalk, probably not looking where they were going. They should be lucky it wasn't some old lady they bumped into, he thought wirily as he looked down at the kid who had crashed into him. Luckily he had plenty of practice at holding his balance, or else he would have been right next to the kid in a pile of limbs.

"You okay, kid?" he reached a hand out, and the kid seemed reluctant to accept it, but he did in the end. From the uniform, Hadrian could tell he was from the local high school nearby – they had a half day, didn't they? Wasn't that what she had said? It didn't matter anyhow, it was clear that he was either trying to meet up with a friend or something, and Hadrian still had plenty of time until his meeting. He could delay it enough to help a kid off the ground.

He studied the kid as he reached up to grab his hand, black hair on the slightly messy side – not unlike his – and tan skin with a muscular body, most likely in some type of sport. When the kid lifted his head, Hadrian realized he had freckles across the cheeks and nose, as well as brown eyes. He was good-looking, he supposes, though he wasn't a teenage girl so he wasn't quite sure what to judge on. Those brown eyes seemed to widen when connecting to his and seemed to be in a suspended state of disbelief even as he pulled the kid up from the ground.

"Kid, you okay?" he obviously wasn't going to get an answer anytime soon, so he gave the brat another once-over to make sure everything seemed to be fine before heading out. The kid was okay, his pupils weren't dilated so there wasn't any concussions, therefore whatever was going on inside that kids' mind had to be internal.

"Get to school safe, kid!" Hadrian yell before slipping out into the crowd, most likely never to see the kid again in a city this big.

* * *

By the time Hadrian made it to the Café, it was 25 minutes after. Considering he was stopped along the way and got lost once because of a detour, he decided it was a successful win. With very little mind, he walked over to the stand and asked of a reservation under then name Evans, wondering if his friend had gotten the place reserved and if his partner was already here. Apparently, there was a reservation, and his friend was waiting at the table for him. Should have known she would have gotten here early – it was in the genetics.

He allowed them to lead him towards the back where his table waited. He looked about the room, not recognizing anyone from school or his neighborhood. It made sense, not many people had cars from where he was and who would walk across the city for a place they couldn't even afford? Him, apparently.

"Onii-san!"

Looking over at the table he assumes to be his, he sees a girl in a school uniform – probably from the same school that kid went to, now that he thinks about it – with red hair and vibrant hazel eyes. Her cheekbones are sharp and have a strong jawline, some of the few features they share between them. It had been awhile, he admits, since he saw his little sister.

"Rosy," he nods, taking a seat across from her. For all that they were born and raised in England, they spent a great amount of their childhood in Japan and picked up on many different words that became common in their everyday speech patterns. The word for 'brother' was one that Rosalina was never able to let go of. "How has your day been?"

"It's great now that I've gotten to see you! I've missed you so much."

He can't help but give a small, bitter smile at that. They both knew that he wouldn't have left her side for the world if it was his option, and even after all these years it left a horrible taste in his mouth to know he hasn't been there at every turning point in her life.

"I've missed you too, Rose."


	2. Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He was right in front of him.
> 
> Words: ~2000

It had been awhile since he met up with everyone again. Sure, he saw most of them every day but it was no longer the same as living under the same roof as everyone. He couldn't just disappear from his mother and his old man either because he was their son as well and they would worry. So he had to adjust to only seeing them at school and whatever time he had to spare after.

Even when he was there though, nothing really felt the same as before.

It was evident as when there would be a silence in the room, usually filled with a charming laugh or a witty comment. When a chair was empty they would all try not to look at it, even though they could all see it from the corner of their eyes. When someone asked for help it was no longer the eldest helping, but someone nearby and knowledgeable enough. At the table when eating, the place reserved for Pops' right hand was left empty – all of them just waiting for the day it would be filled.

Years passed without a whisper of him, not a word spoken and it seemed as if the eldest would never return. The family was giving up hope of him ever returning, seeming to condemn themselves to the fact he wouldn't return.

And if in the middle of the night they cried themselves to sleep, if they stared at the door that would never be used, if they got drunk more than usual some nights… well.

They weren't about to point it out.

* * *

_It was warm and safe. Nice, healing blue flames surrounded him, finally being able to sleep for the first time in forever. Cuddling deeper into the fire brought a chuckle from the source, what felt like arms wrapping around him bringing him comfort. It had been a long time since he felt this heat, and it brought tears to his eyes._

But why… _he thought,_ Why am I crying? _He couldn't remember not being in this warm embrace, couldn't remember the cold that could be there. Yet he still felt like crying, as if this was something he had longed for a million years._

_The source nudged him, coaxing Ace to look up into eyes that he knew better than his own. A smile was on his face, one that was happy and loving, soft and bright at the same time. A sense of urgency took over Ace's mind and body, urging him to grab ahold of this man and never let go._

_Without much thought, he wrapped his arms around the stranger's neck, covering their lips with his own. The fire cocooned them, wrapping them so tightly that every inch of them was covered. It would never be enough though, his skin begging for more contact with this man. Ace wanted to hold this man and never let go, afraid that he would leave once again. He wanted to chain himself to him, wanted to brand this man with his mark to show that he belonged to him._

_Because this man was much like the sky, and just as free – he could never be forced anywhere. And Ace didn't want to, he loved it when this man was free, when his laughter shone brighter than anything in the world. He just wanted to make sure they could always find each other._

_Ace burned that face into his mind, knowing that good things don't tend to last and this was the greatest thing that had ever happened to him so he knew it wouldn't last. But by the gods, did he want it to._

_The last image Ace was the man's smile._

* * *

School was about to start in about an hour, and even rushing down the street he felt like something was going to happen.

He couldn't tell if it was a good thing.

Brothers – because that was what they were, even if only because they called themselves that – were a pain in the ass if only because they wanted to have a race. Even when knowing the city for most of his life it was hard to maneuver the crowded streets, having to literally run into people to simply get a step in. In the end, he guesses he should be thankful. Because if he didn't have to run into people, he would never have met the person he was looking for.

It was completely accidental. Really. He didn't mean to run the guy over, even if he was the only one to fall down. The man was taller than him, by a good six inches at least. Older than him too, and wasn't cursing at him yet so Ace probably wasn't in trouble. So when he stuck his hand in front of Ace, he wasn't really surprised – he just didn't want to take it either.

"Kid, you okay?" That voice made his heart ache, he just couldn't place why. He could feel the man's eyes burning into him, studying him. It made him want to fidget, but he was the former commander of the second division from the Whitebeard Pirates. The only people who could make him nervous was Pops and the first division commander… who they hadn't managed to find yet.

When Ace took the offered hand, still not giving an answer to the man's concerns, he was forced to look at him. He would never be happier that he did because right in front of him was a face he would never forget.

The strong jaw line, high cheekbones, and broad shoulders. The coloring was off – pale skin where it should have been tan, black instead of blonde, and an emerald green in the place of sky blue. But Ace _knew_ Marco, better than anyone; save a few. He knew his body and his heat, the warmth in his eyes and the calluses on his hands. He knew how much strength it took to pull his body up, the right momentum and how he swung to the left just a little while pulling up with his right hand. Because Ace had memorized every detail of Marco when he thought he had lost him, and even if everything was different, Ace would _always_ know Marco.

The man that had been missing for his whole lifetime, the commander that their family had been trying to find, was right in front of him.

Ace could have sworn Marco said something, his lips surely moved and his eyes were concerned. There was no way he could have heard it though, his heart thumping in his chest and the bustling of the streets getting in the way. Everything had zoomed in on him, his fretting behavior and knowledge of somewhat common checkup techniques. This man couldn't be anyone but Marco.

He disappeared from his sight though, side stepping him and hurrying along with the crowded streets. Even as Ace turned, desperate to keep him in sight, it was already too late. The crowd had swallowed him whole.

It was only a minute later did he truly understand what had happened.

Ace had found Marco, had found the love of his life, his _soulmate_ , and there hadn't been any recognition in those once freedom-blue eyes.

Marco had no idea who he was.

* * *

Ace didn't immediately tell his family, even though he really wanted to. He was still trying to wrap his head around it, to prove to himself that it wasn't a dream and that he had seen Marco this morning. He replayed the moment like a record, unwilling to forget even a moment. Even the exact second he realized Marco didn't have any memories of him.

The question was though was why didn't he have his memories? Everyone from the Old Era of Pirates had gotten their memories back fairly quickly if they didn't have their memories when they were born. The longest case of amnesia was until they were ten years old, and Marco had looked well into his twenties.

He didn't even question if it had been Marco – he would know the phoenix anywhere. It didn't matter what life it was, Ace would always find his nestmate.

When the idea that the first commander had been reborn with them settled into his mind, the school day had just ended. He couldn't even remember what was supposed to happen, the homework he might have had, or if he had been scolded by his teachers for not paying attention. His siblings probably noticed, shooting him concerned looks as they escaped from their jailer.

Thatch and Izou, two of his best friends and closest brothers in their makeshift family, rushed over to him and gave him questioning looks. He gestured around them with a shake of his head, nodded towards a less crowded area that was on their way back to the house, and hurried in that direction. It didn't take long for them to hurry up, and Ace had to get back to their father before the hour was up – he wouldn't keep this information to himself any longer than necessary.

"We need to go see Oyaji. Now."

* * *

Everyone had been called for this meeting, no one knowing what it was about – only that Ace had called it while on his way home from school and that it was an emergency. So the once-commanders gathered around the table, near their father while their one time subordinates littered the outskirts of the room. Ace had said it didn't matter who heard, and he was a pretty good judge of information.

And so the remaining members of the Whitebeard pirates waited for some of their youngest siblings to get home, somehow hoping beyond hope that it was good news for once.

"We're home!" the voice of Thatch shouted out from the hallway, bright and jolly, an undertone of nervousness. He, Izou, and Ace came through the door not long after, still wearing their school uniforms. They took their respective seats while being greeted by their family members, leaving only one chair left empty – a chair they thought never to be sat in.

"Ace, my son. Why did you call for this meeting?" Newgate Edward, more commonly known as Oyaji or Whitebeard in the old days, asked his youngest son. He was quite curious as he knew how Ace didn't like to meet from dinner or meetings because of the empty chair beside him. And if he were to be honest, Whitebeard didn't like it much either.

When Ace fiddled with hands for a moment, Whitebeard started to grow uneasy. When he bite his lip he started to worry. And when Ace finally stood up and look up at him, he couldn't help but think something horrible had happened. "Ace?"

Tears filled his son's eyes, dripping down his cheeks and his lips trembled in a way that he had only see when he saw his youngest son miss his eldest. "I found him, Oyaji. I found him."

There were only so many people Ace cared enough to cry over, and the ones he had with him weren't missing. It struck deep, the pain in his eyes as well as the overwhelming relief seeming to almost break him where he stood. And while Ace cared about the family, thought of it as his own, he wouldn't have brought up a missing person from his family until he introduced them first. So this had to do with the Whitebeard Pirates, and there was only one person missing that could cause Ace to cry.

Of course, Newgate wouldn't get his hopes up. He could have easily been mistaken, though he hardly doubted it. Ace knew Marco well, and no matter how much Ace missed him, he wouldn't dishonor his memory by thinking he was someone else. Whitebeard had to hear it from Ace's mouth though, had to be sure they were on the same page.

"Who, son?"

There was a heartbreaking moment of silence that stretched so long that Edward feared Ace wouldn't answer. It was naught though because Ace was smiling so wide it couldn't have been anyone else.

"I found Marco."

 

* * *

**Preview: (May or may not be in the next chapter)**

_"Have you seen my first division commander?"_

_"I hired Harry-chan a few years back, he was one of my customers that was spiraling towards an early grave."_

_"...that dame broke his heart."_

_"There's nothing I can do, no matter how hard I try, no matter what I do, I can never forgive myself for being a reason he's suffering even after all these years!"_

_"May I have this dance?"_

_"I'm afraid that one day I won't be enough to hold him to this world and he'll... just fade away."_

_"Hey, Pops, look at this. It's Marco's medical files..."_

_"I'll take her home. Will you be okay'?"_

_"ROSE!"_

_"Please... please, wake up."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope the preview gives you inspiration to comment?


	3. Chapter III - Finding a Lost Bird

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Whitebeard Pirates reminisce about the past, and get a glimpse of the future.
> 
> Words: ~2600

**A Phoenix Reborn**

**"Chapter III: Finding a Lost Bird"**

* * *

They were up in arms, shouting out cries of joys and tears streaming down their face. It had been close to thirty years since Whitebeard had been reborn into this new timeline, and with each passing year, another son was welcomed into the family. However, one remained outside of their grasp, forever eluding their sight. Now though, now the oldest brother wasn't some forgotten memory from another life that they held onto to remember him by. No, now the dream was a reality, just a breath away from being true.

And all they had to do was find him.

Of course, there was the problem of not being able to recognize your most important person, and if Marco's memory didn't jog they would have to find a reason to get close to him again. But that didn't matter right now, right now was a time to celebrate their lost older brother being found, and everything was okay again.

Because Marco was alright. He was _alive_.

* * *

 

It was hard, so very hard to leave the room full of cheer. There was no other option though because as much as he loved his family, he needed the comfort that only one person could bring. And he wasn't even there.

So Ace went to that special place, welcoming the darkened wood and almost recoiling from the lack of warmth. It was their room, the room that had been set aside just for them. Ace had only set foot in this room a handful of times, wanting to preserve the space for when his lover returned. As years went by though, with more hope lost every passing day, it had become almost a memorial for the eldest son. Pictures of Marco and them scattered the room, all drawn or painted from memory. Some flowers and letters littered the desk and nightstand, a silent plea to come home soon. Ace can't remember how many times he stumbled upon a brother sitting outside this very room, sometimes just sitting against it – taking comfort in the thought that even if he wasn't there, Marco would care enough to be there for them. Other times his siblings would just talk about their day, believing that he could hear them from wherever he was.

Ace can't remember the last time he set foot in this room.

For all the Marco had never set foot in these walls, his presence is all around him, in every wooden board, in every breath he takes. It doesn't quite smell like him – because Marco smelled of freshly fallen rain, of the breeze in the wind, a starting fire, of rebirth and freedom – but it's a close thing. So when Ace collapses on the bed, wrapping himself in a forgotten warmth, it's no wonder that the last time they were together comes to mind.

* * *

_Years had passed since the War of the Best, another war taking its place for the right to live. It was freedom against order, so-called 'criminals' against 'justice bringers' but they loved every second of it. The thrill kept their blood pumping and hearts beating, and for once in a very long time, they felt more alive than ever before._

_He doesn't know how long the battle for the End went, doesn't know quite when it stopped. All he knows is that suddenly his brother is laughing, a joyful laugh that speaks of freedom and he can't help but laugh with him, the feeling of_ they finally won _taking over his mind and it feels so good. Blood that once urged him to defy has settled, calmed when the enemy it has been fighting for hundreds of years has finally been defeated, and the memories can finally rest in peace – knowing that their decedents and the world is safe once more._

_The joy doesn't last long though, probably an hour or so at most. They have left the battlefield behind them, the party in full swing, but something hasn't settled in his gut and screams at him something terrible is going to happen. He's inclined to believe it._

_So he keeps his guard up, doesn't rest that night even when everyone else is passed out drunk on the floor. By eleven almost everyone is asleep, knocked unconscious from alcohol. His gaze sweeps across the deck, searching for something until he finds it. Marco is looking out at the sea, relaxed in a way he so very rarely is, and seems to be smiling a wistful, heartbreaking, smile that pulls at his heartstrings._

_Ace doesn't hesitate to go over to him, walking between his siblings like he always has, coming beside Marco with concern in his eyes and desperation settling into his body. Because while he doesn't know what's going through the man's mind, he can sense that it isn't something that he's going to like._

_"Marco?"_

_Suddenly the others are around them, Pops looking on with a resigned expression, Izo and Thatch staring solemnly, Haruta has tears streaming down her face. The commanders are standing in a line, all the same, Pops looking at Marco with a fond expression that delays the sadness behind his eyes, giving a smile to his first and eldest son. Something is about to happen, something horrible, and Ace is the only one who's not prepared for it._

_"It's time."_

_It only takes those two little words for most of the commanders to break apart, still trying to stand tall but not quite managing it. Ace doesn't know what's going on, why his family is crying and why Marco's voice is a mix between joyous relief and heartbreaking depression. He's not around people often when they say their last goodbyes, but he gets the feeling all the same in this one moment._

_"Marco?"_

_He can see him taking a shuddering breath, preparing to do something that he longs for and at the same time despises. There's a terrible weight on his shoulders, almost seeming to crush the first mate under its weight. All Ace can think of is taking it all back, removing this burden and taking it on himself. He knows Marco though, knows that while he still stands he won't ask for help._

_"I said years ago that when an era ends, a phoenix must die. I wasn't lying, just misspoken. While the Era of Silver had ended at Marineford and the Era of Dreams had started, my time still ran strong. The Century of Lies still thrived."_

_It feels like the world is crashing down around him, taking every foundation Ace has built up for himself and ripping it away from him. It leaves him barren, on show for the whole world to see because suddenly Ace_ knows _what's about to happen and he wants nothing more than to rewind time and_ just stop. _Stop everything._

_"Now that the facts have come out, it's free and no one can ever be harmed by their deceptions ever again. I can move on, I can let this burden, this promise go because it's been fulfilled. The Century of Truth can finally begin, and relics from so long ago have to let go for it to happen."_

_It screams in all of their hearts, the undeniable facts that this is_ happening _and they can't do anything to stop it. What is the point of being a pirate if they can't be free? Free from fate, free from the laws of nature, free of the burden too heavy to bare. What's the point of their strengths if they can't even protect the one that was there for them for years?_

_"Thank you, Whitebeard Pirates. I have watched you all grown from the low-life of the world to one of the greatest crews that have ever lived. Whatever I may have said in the past, no matter how much you annoy me and how much I want to throw you overboard - know that it has been an honor to serve as your first division commander, Oyaji."_

_Marco_ (who shines brighter than the sun ever could) _turns, not a single tear in sight unlike the rest of them. His eyes are sorrow-filled, but there's so much pride that it completely overtakes whatever could be beneath it. Lips are curved into a smile, not a smirk, and it feels as if his phoenix is singing to heal their hearts. Marco doesn't have any regrets, no reason to worry about his family, but that doesn't mean he isn't sad to see them go._

_Ace feels himself take a step forward, and then another one, and another, until he is in front of his lover. He doesn't try to stop the tears from streaming down his face, doesn't try to hide his pain because Marco deserves to know that he's worth everything and anything. It doesn't come as a surprise to either of them when Ace latches on to Marco like he would die without him. It's not a surprise when Marco clings back just as much._

_Marco smells like the sky, the breeze that carries the words of loved ones; he smells like the damp air after a rain shower, and for all that he's made of fire, Marco doesn't smell of burnt wood or charcoal. No, he smells of freshly cut grass and blooming flowers, of rebirth and freedom. Everything Ace has ever wanted, wrapped up in one man._

_"This is goodbye, isn't it?"_

_"It's never a goodbye. I know you'll find me in the next life, and I'll be waiting."_

_He steps away from Ace, from the crew. Distancing himself so he can look at all of his family one last time. See the man who took him in when there was no other place to go, the young boys who became the best siblings one could ask for. Memorizing the faces of everyone, but most importantly, carving his young lover's features into his mind._

_"Throw my fruit into the ocean, would you? The ole bird will find a way to be reborn, just hopefully not as a person," the crew nods, resigned acceptance on their faces. "Hey, don't be sad. We'll see each other again someday. We'll become the family we are now. Please, give me a smile._

_"This is it. Goodbye, everyone. Thank you for everything. Thank you for loving me."_

_And the man, so bright and beautiful, so full of life and dreams bursts into flames, a smile the last thing they see on his face._

_When the flames die out, there is a blue pineapple sitting before them, waiting to see what happens next._

* * *

It had been a long wait for Newgate. Over thirty years he had been alive, gathering up his remaining family as he went. He found old rivals turned friends, and with those friends they helped him find his crew with him returning the favor. It hadn't matter how high they looked, or how far. There was only one person missing, one single person they said goodbye to a little too early, and a little too late.

Marco had always been there, a steady presence even when he had been starting out on his adventure. He was more than a son, or even a brother because he was confident, a person who helped him guide the crew when he doubted himself. Marco had been the first in many to believe in him, but he had still been the first.

He loved all of his sons equally, but he didn't feel guilty about trusting Marco more, knowing more about him, relying on him when he was weak. Marco had done everything he could to make sure everything was going smoothly, taking the reins as he grew older and he stayed young. Newgate had never envied his devil fruit power, knowing just how lonely his eldest son's eyes were.

Edward remembered, even back then, how his son had been so weary of the world, so weary of a single conversation and a hand offered to him. Marco had been so shocked, so off-kilter that it had broken his faith in humanity just looking at him. It was a hard thing to accept, hard to communicate with him the first couple of years. But he had settled, had found his role and worth with him. Marco had decided to live with his name carved onto his body, for the world to hear even if the man himself was long gone.

Maybe, when Marco had joined him on his adventure, he had wished that just for once he wasn't going to be left behind.

Newgate will probably never know, knowing his son.

* * *

They called upon their allies, search for a man that matched Ace's description. However, as more and more people returned in failure, it was hard to keep spirits up. They refused to lose hope, knowing their brother was now out there somewhere, just waiting to be found by them. The Whitebeard Pirates had never given up, and they weren't about to when their older brother was relying on them.

It wasn't until a few weeks later did they finally concede to a helping hand in the form of a bar owner. If they remembered correctly, the informative was Shakuyaku, Rayleigh's wife. While a former enemy, they were good people who they could rely on in the thick of things. She had heard of the Whitebeards looking for a man with black hair and startling green eyes and had called them up.

Only the former commanders and captain went, having the others continue the search. The bar was a warm, cozy place – still titled the exact same as in the past: "Shakky's Rip-off Bar." It was empty at the time, having closed up shop to talk with them for the night. The once-pirates settled at the tables, none daring enough to sit in hitting range of the woman. She had a mean right hook, after all.

"Have you seen my first division commander?" Pops broke the tense silence, wanting to know if she had any, _any_ information on his lost son. She looked at him in askance though, only knowing they were looking for a male with black hair and emerald green eyes that were so vibrant that it literally hurt to look at them. Shakky leaned over the bar all the same, banging on the tabletop.

"Hey! Slacker! I'm not paying you to sleep on the floor down there!"

There was a moment of silence, then a groan. Finally, a hand appeared to grab the ledge, assuming to hoist them up from the floor. Who would sleep at a bar run by Shakky? She would have killed you for slacking off.

"I'm on my break, you goddamn crone!"

It was the voice that made them come up short, stopping all process because they had heard that same voice bark orders when it the middle of battle. They had heard that voice comfort them in the dead of night, and heard it through the hallways of their ship – it meant that everything was alright and if it wasn't, the person the voice belong to would _make_ it alright.

The person hauled themselves up, shooting out from under the bar and practically _glared_ at Shakky, who only looked amused. Black hair, longer than they had ever seen on his face, and paler skin that spoke of long hours indoors. The eyes were different, only one being the blue they were all used to, but they knew that warmth, that face better than their own.

Standing in front of them, behind the counter of Shakky's Rip-Off Bar, was none other than the first division commander they had all been looking for.

* * *

 **Preview:** (Might or might not be in the next chapter)

_"He never told me much about himself... always trying to be distant to everyone else."_

_"I'm not your son - we both know that."_

_Screeching of tires blare in his head, and as much as he want to run over to his fallen brother, he's stuck watching has he's hit down._

_Beeping fills the room, and he clings desperately to the too-stilled hand like it's a lifeline._

_"Harry doesn't live in the dorms, too crowded for him, he said."_

_"That blonde chick Shakky told us about... she's here."_

_"Is she his... girlfriend?"_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you like :) And leave a comment - means the world to me.

**Author's Note:**

> It's alive!!!
> 
> This is the third installment of the Phoenix Series. You don't know how excited I am for this, I have so many plans and I want a good build up - but it's going to be so hard because I just want to jump right into it. Now you don't need to read Finding a Phoenix (I'm planning on editing that, and then adding more, I swear) but I would recommend reading A Phoenix Never Dies (also might re-write that, or just post a new version of it) if you want to know what's going on as this is a direct spin-off.


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